So it means that Nastasya Filippovna invited you to her place straight off?"
"The thing is that she didn't."
"How can you be going, then?" Kolya exclaimed and even stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. "And . . . and dressed like that, and to a formal party?"
"By God, I really don't know how I'm going to get in.
If they receive me—good; if not—then my business is lost.
And as for my clothes, what can I do about that?"
"You have business there?
Or is it just so, pour passer le temps* in 'noble society'?"
"No, essentially I . . . that is, I do have business . . . it's hard for me to explain it, but . . ."
"Well, as for what precisely, that can be as you like, but the main thing for me is that you're not simply inviting yourself to a party, to be in the charming company of loose women, generals, and usurers.
If that were so, excuse me, Prince, but I'd laugh at you and start despising you.
There are terribly few honest people here, so that there's nobody at all to respect.
You can't help looking down on them, while they all demand respect—Varya first of all.
And have you noticed, Prince, in our age they're all adventurers!
And precisely here, in Russia, in our dear fatherland.
And how it has all come about, I can't comprehend.
It seemed to stand so firmly, and what is it now?
Everybody talks and writes about it everywhere.
They expose.
With us everybody exposes.
The parents are the first to retreat and are ashamed themselves at their former morals.
There, in Moscow, a father kept telling his son to stop at nothing in getting money; it got into print.38 Look at my general.
What's become of him?
But, anyhow, you know, it seems to me that my general is an honest man; by God, it's so!
All that is just disorder and drink.
By God, it's so!
It's even a pity; only I'm afraid to say it, because everybody laughs; but by God, it's a pity.
And what about them, the smart ones?
They're all usurers, every last one.
Ippolit justifies usury; he says that's how it has to be, there's economic upheaval, some sort of influxes and refluxes, devil take them.
It vexes me terribly to have it come from him, but he's angry.
Imagine, his mother, the captain's widow, takes money from the general and then gives him quick loans on interest. It's terribly shameful!
And, you know, mother, I mean my mother, Nina Alexandrovna, the general's wife, helps Ippolit with money, clothes, linen, and everything, and sometimes the children, too, through Ippolit, because the woman neglects them.
And Varya does the same."
"You see, you say there are no honest and strong people, that there are only usurers; but then strong people turn up, your mother *To pass the time. and Varya.
Isn't it a sign of moral strength to help here and in such circumstances?"
"Varka does it out of vanity, out of boastfulness, so as not to lag behind her mother. Well, but mama actually ... I respect it.
Yes, I respect it and justify it.
Even Ippolit feels it, though he's almost totally embittered.
At first he made fun of it, called it baseness on my mother's part; but now he's beginning to feel it sometimes.
Hm!
So you call it strength?
I'll make note of that.
Ganya doesn't know about it, or he'd call it connivance."
"And Ganya doesn't know?
It seems there's still a lot that Ganya doesn't know," escaped the prince, who lapsed into thought.
"You know, Prince, I like you very much.
I can't stop thinking about what happened to you today."
"And I like you very much, Kolya."
"Listen, how do you intend to live here?